


Sand

by ramuda



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, for carl !! i love u!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 16:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14169009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramuda/pseuds/ramuda
Summary: The ocean left him calm, its soothing embrace taking his whole body in.





	Sand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goblinchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblinchan/gifts).



> AAAA CARL UR GAYS  
> I HOPE U LIKE IT I DID MY BEST

Mao took a deep breath in, digging his toes into the gritty sand below. He had always been calmed by the sea, even despite all of its steep contrasts; the backdrop of the expansive blue sky, peaceful, never-changing, meeting the horizon of endless blue waves, their crashing and roaring angrily, water nipping at the edge of his toes as if it were a warning. Mao counted each wave as they crashed down at his side, retreating back into the sea with only the remnants of white foam serving as a reminder of where they had touched.

Mao glanced down at his watch with a sigh. It was nearly 6:30; he had tons of student council work to finish and his mom would probably be sending his little sister out to find him soon. It was getting dark earlier lately, as it was the beginning of the transition to the fall months, and Mao found that there wasn’t enough time in the day to do everything he had planned. His days were mostly spent catering to everybody around him; from getting Ritsu to and from school, and doing favors for the student council and his classmates, to having Trickstar practice daily in preparation for an upcoming live.

He stared at the sea, watching the sun come closer to the horizon. The sky began to shift from a bright blue to a gradient palette of pink and orange, as if the sky wanted to make itself more comforting and welcoming to all that looked at it. He watched the colors change, slightly, what was once a cloud highlighted in bright orange changing to pink, radiating a highlight of peace. The mix of the clouds and the warm sky were beckoning him into staying longer, as if it was a siren who had finally caught their prey.

Mao closed his eyes for a minute, breathing in deeply and smelling the refreshing saltwater, a soft grin appearing on his face. As much as he enjoyed helping others, as much as he found comfort and validation within the soothing voices thanking him, he felt a warm pleasure in being alone, the only sounds the crashing of the waves and the seagulls chirping nearby. His thoughts blazed loudly within his head, but he felt that the endless plains of sand gave him a place to work it all out.

“I-Isara-kun…!” A voice rippling from across the sand took him out of his silent daze. He lifted his head up from where it was resting on the ground, running his fingers through his hair to get any excess sand that was stuck in it. Mao cracked open an eye, a tiny figure rustling in the sand. The person was coming closer, and as they became more clear to Mao’s eyes, their voice rang clearer too. “Isara-kun..! Isara-kun..!” 

Mao flashed a smile into the distance, his hand coming up to wave. As he watched Makoto get closer, his blonde hair becoming more distinct against the pink backdrop of the sunrise, he patted the ground next to him. Makoto finally reached the spot where he was sitting, wiping a bit of sweat off of his brow and dropping his Yumenosaki bag to the ground. He carefully plopped down, paying no mind to the fact that the sand below him was muddy and would most definitely ruin his clothes. 

They cheesily smile at each other, their grins filling the void of silent, empty space between them for a moment, before it stops. A wave crashes down, the edge of the water brushing against Makoto’s pant leg, leaving an imprint of its existence before retreating back to the sea. It’s silent, the wind brushing past their ears, a soft lullaby from the Earth, and it isn’t awkward or uncomfortable, and as they look out to the sea they seem to still communicate.

Makoto breaks the silence with a smack. His head hits the ground, his arms spreading as wide as they can while still taking caution to not hit Mao. Mao watches him let out a groan, shifting a bit to the side to make eye contact. ‘He looks cute like this.’ Mao thinks, his blue glasses slightly pushed up onto his cheek, his hair messy from being tussled and played with by the wind and a day’s routine. Despite the feeling of peaceful isolation he had felt before, Makoto left him with a new type of warmth, the comfort radiating through his body from his head to his toes.

“Anzu told me you were unusually calm today.“ Makoto’s eyes are closed now, giving Mao a chance to unabashedly take in the radiance of the setting sun echoing off of his skin. “You told me once that you enjoyed coming here, so I assumed it’s where you would be!” He smiled, the corners of his mouth perking up. 

Mao wished he was a photographer. If he could capture this very moment, every scent, every detail, every emotion radiating in the air between them, he would be pleased. If he could recreate the sudden suspense yet softness of Makoto subconsciously dragging his fingers through the sand, leaving a wavy pattern only to be washed away when the tide rises soon, and the heat arising on his cheeks and colliding with his heart when their fingers touch. Their index fingers interlock, soft, slowly, quietly, but the atmosphere around them was abuzz with the unspoken feelings resting between them.

Small, small movements. Fingers interlocking turn into hands intertwining, a soft squeeze to comfort. Mao feels Makoto start to drag himself closer, a tiny pile of sand creating a wall against his body. Mao’s eyes open, and Makoto is red. Really red. The pink on the almost fully set sun is nothing, Makoto’s cheeks paralleling it in the cutest way possible. The sun is almost fully set now, and Mao briefly realizes that he should get home soon. But his mind is yelling Makoto’s name, and his eyes are watching, waiting.

The silence before was peaceful, but now it’s stressful, something clearly unsaid yet mutually known ringing in the ears of both boys.

Makoto waits for a moment then leans in, balling up and pressing his face to Mao’s chest. His face his hot, and the smell of Mao’s blazer, recently washed but still so distinctive, was beckoning for him to come. His glasses are uncomfortably pushed against his face now, but he can’t move, he can’t escape the silent barricade that they have locked themselves in.

“Makoto.” Uncertainty taints his voice, shaky and hesitant. Mao’s hand is wrapped around his shoulder now, strong, secure, like a rope keeping him tethered to shore.

His hand trails across, brushing his fingers over his shoulders and leaving a few strokes on his head. Makoto feels Mao’s heart start beating faster, the smooth rhythm turning into a symphony of sporadic beats. Fingers meet his chin and they pull his face up, pushing his glasses back comfortably onto his nose. He looks directly into Mao’s eyes now, one, two. 

He can’t hear anything anymore. Between the roaring of the waves in his ears and the beating of Mao’s heart, he can’t focus on anything else. They’re staring dead into eachothers eyes, so much unsaid, so much unsaid. For somebody so anxious, Makoto isn’t scared. Mao. Mao. Mao will always keep him safe, he has his best interests in mind at all times. They improve and grow together and form a solid bond to keep them afloat.

Mao leans in closer, a strand of red hair hitting Makoto’s forehead. His bangs had fallen out of their clip, he realized, and the wind was blowing them about. He continues to lean in closer, pausing for a moment. His brain replays the entire scene on the beach, the entire scene with Makoto, the events leading up to here. 

He flashes a soft smile, opening his eyes to look at Makoto laying right next to him. He looks a little messy, frizzled, but he looks happy. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Silence, silence. Makoto wants to fill it with a self deprecating comment about how he didn’t know if he would be able to, I mean he never did it before, how was he supposed to figure out what to do?

But upon looking at Mao, laying right next to him, the horizon lined up with where his smile is, bright and radiant as the sun, he can’t find a reason why he would say no.

Makoto grins, his nose wrinkling and his glasses going up his face once again, ‘Yes’ nodded quietly.


End file.
